


Family Dynamics

by tcheschire



Series: Hearth - Winter Fluff 2020 [7]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Dinners, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, So Big Yikes Obviously, but it's okay I promise, family is what you make it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcheschire/pseuds/tcheschire
Summary: It is less than ten minutes in the door, and you are already regretting convincing Jounouchi to attend his family's Christmas dinner.Day Seven - Holiday Celebration
Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler & Kawai Shizuka | Serenity Wheeler, Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Reader, Kawai Shizuka | Serenity Wheeler & Reader
Series: Hearth - Winter Fluff 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063934
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Family Dynamics

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas! Hello, and welcome back to our Winter Fluff Fic-a-thon! Today's fic is dedicated very especially to everyone who, for whatever reason, does not spend time with their family over the holiday season, or who would rather not. You're so valid, and I'm proud of you, and I love you. This one might feel a little heavier than the others at the start, but that good sweet fluff is there at the end, I promise. But if reading about abusive family gatherings is a trigger for you, I don't recommend continuing.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and of course, feel free to check out the [masterlist up on my Tumblr](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com/post/636907897154076673/winter-fluff-masterlist) for what's coming up!

You surveyed the scene around you over a delicate sip of your wine.

The most obvious presence in the room was without contest Katsuya’s father, risen from his position at the head of the table with a can of beer in his hand. You hadn’t been counting – you didn’t know you were supposed to be, but you regretted not keeping track – but you were certain it was well into double digits. With each drink he’d had over the course of the day, his volume had risen, and his belligerence as well. He’d said things to you that you’d never dreamed would have come out of another person’s mouth.

Only barely trailing behind her ex-husband in conspicuousness was Katsuya’s mother, though not necessarily for lack of trying. She was still seated, the expression on her face chilly but composed, and she mirrored you in taking a drink; from an outside perspective, it would have been difficult to identify that she was being shouted at if it weren’t for the, well, shouting. You would have thought she were in the middle of asking you about your job – for all that you knew, she was.

On your left was Katsuya, clenching his fists white-knuckled into the napkin in his lap, red in the face and positively thrumming with the energy he was restraining, looking for all the world as though he was about to swallow his tongue. You could feel the rage rolling off of him in waves, and you knew that he was a hairsbreadth away from throwing a punch. It seemed to you, you thought with a press of your hand against his underneath the table, that if it weren’t for you and Shizuka, he and his father would already be rolling around on the table, fists flying.

And Shizuka. Poor Shizuka. Her hands were clasped in her lap, wringing her napkin, her head down, long auburn hair a curtain before her face. You saw slivers of deathly pale skin in between her breaths, and the expression you could make out looked as though she was quite apart of her body at the moment.

You took another sip, and contemplated how you had gotten here. Anxious to diffuse some of the tension, you reached for the nearest dish, hands perched on the ends of the serving spoons.

“Does anyone want any brussels sprouts?”

* * *

The invitation had come about a week previous, when you and Katsuya had taken Shizuka to a movie. She had mentioned it offhand, so casually you wouldn’t have suspected anything was amiss if Katsuya hadn’t gone rigid, his soda halfway to his mouth as his eyes narrowed to slits.

Bless him, he hadn’t let you in on the true extent of the thing in the face of your enthusiasm. You had been dating for so long, and though loved spending time with his sister, and you knew his parents had divorced when he was a child, there was still the traditional part of you that wanted to meet the whole family.

He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, searching for the proper words. You could sense his discomfort, even as he tossed the honey into the shopping basket – naively, you had just assumed it was because you hadn’t seen his parents in a while. “Dunno, babe,” he had warned you hesitantly, intertwining his fingers with yours when you went for his hand. “Didn’t exactly leave off on the best of terms, y’know?”

“Oh, I’m sure loads of people feel that way,” you dismissed, rubbing your free hand up his forearm placatingly, and beaming up at him. “I’m certainly nervous to see my folks after so long – but I’m sure this’ll be great!”

He pulled a dubious face, but let you steer him around the grocery store for the rest of the foodstuffs you needed. You had been so insistent on making a good impression, pulling up old family recipes that were sure to be a hit. Out of the corner of your eye, in between the aisles and when you fussed over this brand versus that, you saw him watch you with a crooked smile and a furrowed brow.

And the day of had come, Christmas Day, and he had curled around you from behind, slinging an arm over your waist, and groaning into your ear that it was okay, you didn’t have to go, he could call Shizuka and tell her that you were sick – “Or me, I can be sick. I got food poisoning or something, I don’t care.”

Muffling a giggle into your pillow, you had jerked your elbow back to hit him softly in the abdomen, prompting a gentle _oof_ from him while you rolled out of his grasp.

“Neither of us is sick,” you chided pointedly, stretching. “I’m gonna get a few things started in the kitchen, and then I’m gonna shower. I just need you to keep an eye on things and make sure nothing burns, can I count on you?”

Propped on one elbow, his hair mussed and his expression groggy, Katsuya had flashed you a single thumbs up and collapsed back onto his pillow, draping his arm over his eyes with a groan.

The cooking had gone by in a flash with no problems whatsoever, and you transferred everything to the cleanest, largest Tupperware you owned. Katsuya had cleaned himself up nicely, digging out his singular tie and his one nice shirt – he even let you fuss over his hair, a strange gleam in his eye when you drew back, satisfied.

It was…difficult to pinpoint when everything started going downhill. The lines were so fuzzy, and no amount of retrospect could have helped you navigate the scene.

You had been welcomed into the house – Katsuya’s father’s, you learned, when Katsuya commented on how clean everything was upon crossing the threshold. Shizuka greeted you at the door with a warm hug, a strangely harried look on her face as she embraced her brother.

“They’re in the kitchen,” was all she said, murmured low – Katsuya had raised a brow at this, toeing off his shoes and pressing a kiss to your temple before striding inside with purpose. Without explanation, Shizuka then turned to you, brightly offering to show you where you could deposit the food.

“Well it’s my house, and I’m saying it’s fine,” you heard a rough male voice saying as you entered the kitchen behind Shizuka.

A woman who could only be Katsuya’s mother raised her eyebrows, pressing her lips together. “There’s a familiar sound.” Her posture shifted when her eyes alighted on you, and it was as though she melted into another person midstep toward you, spreading her arms to embrace you. “And this must be…?”

Katsuya had made introductions, and you noticed that he stepped in close when you extended a hand to his father to shake, his hand resting gently between your shoulder blades.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” you lied diplomatically, a grin splitting your face.

This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say, and raised the hackles on Katsuya’s father immediately. “What kinda shit you spreading, boy?” he all but snarled at his son.

Though you faltered, you responded for him. “I just meant that I was excited to meet you,” you said, still smiling, though significantly more unsure.

“But please, go ahead and start a fight over it,” Katsuya’s mother murmured softly, fussing with the food that had begun collecting on the counters. “Shizuka, dear, will you help me set the table? Hopefully we can eat in some peace – this looks lovely, dear,” she added in an aside to you.

You had excused yourself to help Shizuka and her mother set the table, leaving Katsuya to tug his father aside. You could not hear exactly what was being said, but there was a cast to your boyfriend’s shoulders that you had never seen – a weight, a seriousness that you weren’t expecting.

You busied your hands then, setting down flatware and silverware and transferring dishes to serving plates and moving chairs around the small table. After a certain point, you noticed Katsuya had joined you, and you rubbed a reassuring hand up and down his spine, beaming at him. _It’s okay, this is fine_.

He simply grunted and scowled.

After a moment of peacefully setting the table, Shizuka gasped, her head jerking up. “ _Onii-chan_ ,” she whispered, breathless, her eyes darting around. “They’re – “

“Shit,” Katsuya filled in the blank immediately, swerving around the table back into the kitchen, where you only heard faint clattering and the drone of steady voices.

However, once Katsuya set one foot past the threshold into the kitchen, it was as though something had been unlocked, and you heard a distinct shout, followed by a soft snort – followed finally by Katsuya’s firm, too-loud, “All right, let’s just go sit and eat. No. Now.”

His father had loped out of the kitchen, clutching his beer can to his chest; his mother came soon after, smirking, vindicated, carrying her wine close to her lips and yours in her offhand; and finally Katsuya followed, irritated and clenching his fist.

Now, you weren’t sure how it got from that to this. For a few blissful moments, when the first couple of dishes were being passed around, there was quiet, and it even almost felt as though the rest of the meal would pass in peace – you held out on an opinion about gift giving, but at least the meal would be nice.

But then.

But then?

Someone said something. It truly was hard to track – you had never seen a family with such ennui, and you were blindsided by how _every little thing_ seemed to be a trigger. Katsuya’s father, grumbled in his seat, Katsuya’s mother remained passive aggressive, and while Shizuka froze for fear of making the scene they caused worse, Katsuya froze out of respect for you and Shizuka.

After a certain point, Katsuya’s mother slapped her napkin down onto the table, announcing she could no longer take this and stormed off to lock herself in the bathroom – Katsuya’s father seemed to take this as a personal challenge, storming off to follow her, pounding on the door for her to “ _stop the crocodile tears”_.

Shizuka shot up from her seat, peering around the corner quietly. Bustling back to the table, she announced under her breath, “I think you have about twenty minutes, _onii-chan_.”

His jaw clenched tight, Katsuya nodded stiffly. With incredible gentleness, given how his hand was trembling, he touched your elbow and said, “We’re going,” with such finality that you could only stutter out an, “O-oh. Oh o-okay. But – “

Shizuka nodded a reassurance at you – she still looked deathly pale, but there was a fire in her eyes that took you aback. “I’ll be all right. I have a party with some friends from school after this,” she admitted, eyes flicking over to her brother, who was already helping you into your coat. “I’m just waiting on them to pick me up.”

You did not have the time to answer beyond a nod before Katsuya frog-marched you from the apartment without a single glance back.

* * *

It was only when you both mad it back to the apartment that you realized you had scarcely taken a breath in the excitement – Katsuya, too, seemed to be feeling the same way, as he immediately locked the door and leaned his back against it, dropping his had back with an exaggerated sigh.

A beat.

“You still hungry?”

You blinked. “Katsuya, what on earth _was_ that?”

“’M famished,” he said instead of answering, toeing off his shoes and breezing past you into the apartment. “Gonna see what’s left in the fridge.”

Removing your shoes, you followed him, slightly dumbfounded. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, if I had _known_ – “

Already buried waist deep into your leftovers in the fridge, Katsuya popped his head above the refrigerator door, a knowing grin on his face. “I did tell you,” he pointed out. “We got pizza and curry,” he added, lifting the containers.

“Pizza,” you answered, dumping your coat on the back of a chair. “You did tell me, I’m so sorry, I should have listened. I mean, I just _thought_ – “

“S’all right. Everyone says their family’s shit, so you didn’t have much reference. ‘Sides, I still got Shizuka, and I got you now. Don’t think we have any clean plates, that’s my fault,” he added, looking abashed after opening a cupboard.

“It’s fine, we can just use the box. Didn’t we have some wine, or did we take that to your parents’?”

“My old man’s,” he corrected shortly, screwing up his face in thought as he turned on the oven to broil the pizza. “Think we might. Check that cupboard.” He gestured with his elbow, sliding the pizza into the oven.

“Ah, thank you.” You dug some glasses out, pouring a portion for each of you.

After handing him his, he held it aloft for a moment. “Cheers,” he said, clinking the glass against yours, sipping once before setting it onto the counter.

“Cheers. And poor Shizuka, she looked so rattled, I feel so bad leaving her there.” In the whirlwind of the moment, it had only barely occurred to you – she had reassured you, sure, but that didn’t quite make it better. “Did you see her face?”

Kneeling near the oven to keep an eye on the pizza, Katsuya snorted. “She’s tougher than she lets on,” he told you, shooting you a smile tinged with something like pride, but rueful. “She’ll be all right. Here, hand me the box. Ah,” he paused, looking at the table – it was covered in paperwork, and the remains of his old duel disk, being broken down and reassembled for the dozenth time.

“Here’s fine,” you said, holding the box aloft for him, and setting it on the ground when he placed the reheated pizza on it. Grabbing your wineglass, you slid to the linoleum, leaning your back against the wall and extending your legs out. A thought struck you. “I took all of our good Tupperware to your dad’s. What are the chances of us getting that back?”

 _Hoo_ ing and _hah_ ing around the hot first bite, Katsuya considered for a moment, finally answering, “Think my mom mighta gotten us Tupperware. Too bad we didn’t stay for presents, huh?”

You barked a laugh at the joke, suddenly too tired to care anymore.

“Hey,” Katsuya said suddenly, leaning into you, a serious look on his face.

Around your bite of pizza, you turned into him, a quizzical _hmm?_ leaving your throat.

Mindless of the half-chewed pizza in your mouth or the grease on your chin, Katsuya leaned over the pizza box between you and pressed his lips against yours. “Merry Christmas,” he said, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

Swallowing thickly, you raised your wineglass. “Merry Christmas.”


End file.
